


Last Night On Earth

by ac_123



Series: It's You I Find (Like a Ghost in My Mind) [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Secret Relationship, Shower Sex, Uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:23:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ac_123/pseuds/ac_123
Summary: The night before the ill-fated Kerberos mission takes off its pilot and his boyfriend spend one last night together: dreaming of the future, thinking of the past, and making the most of the present.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started this for Shance week which was *looks at watch* last year. This is also more than double the original word count, too, so idk if that makes up for it.
> 
> Age notes: to make all of my age math work, Lance is 19 at the time of this fic and Shiro is 23. They were 18 and 22, respectively, when they started hooking up/dating seriously.
> 
> I could also go on about this dating-at-the-Garrison AU, so if you want you can hit me up on my tumblr [](http://ballpointpencil.tumblr.com)ballpointpencil or on twitter @a_schoe.

“Hey,” someone called after Lance, “are you lost?”

He froze for a moment, a jolt of embarrassment shooting through his arms and legs before he stiffly turned around on his heel. He was already wearing his bright, winning smile and had his right hand up in a salute when he faced a confused lieutenant commander. “Actually,” he responded, “I am. Kind of. I’m looking for Shi— Lieutenant Shirogane’s quarters.” He dramatically patted the pockets on his uniform pants, making sure his mouth twisted enough to sell his impression of confusion and concern. He gasped when he pulled out the small, white envelope he was carrying in his back pocket and waved it in the air. “His Defensive Flight Techniques class got him a goodbye card. I drew the short straw and now I have to drop it off with him before he leaves tomorrow.”

“Oh,” the lieutenant commander grunted. He pointed down the hall, in the direction Lance had been heading before being interrupted. “It’s down there. Take a left at the end of the hall and it’s about four or five doors down.” He scratched his chin. “I think. The door has his name on it, so just keep an eye out.”

Lance looked over his shoulder. “Thank you!” he said with a wide-arching wave.

The lieutenant commander waved back, an eyebrow rising slightly as walked toward the main school building and, presumably, the mess hall. It was about dinner time, as Hunk had reminded Lance multiple times before he made his way to officer’s wing. Hunk had suggested he wait until later, after dinner. That way they can get some grub, relax for a bit, and maybe then everyone would be sleepy and not care that about a cadet wandering around in restricted areas close to curfew. Lance had shaken him off and adjusted the buttons on him uniform. He was _fine_. He’d gone to Shiro’s room on his own before and nothing bad ever happened. Besides, he had the goodbye card the class had signed for Shiro. No one was going to stop him trying to do a nice thing for a local hero. He left Hunk in their room with his head held high and an air-tight alibi.

His smile shrunk into a tight little frown. He put the card away and turned down the hall, walking in the opposite direction of the lieutenant commander. He peeked over his shoulder. There weren’t any more nosy instructors milling about. The whole wing was eerily quiet; his breathing and footsteps echoed in his head as he forged ahead, turning right as he reached the end of the hall. Shiro’s room was two doors down, situated between a janitor’s closet and another lieutenant’s private quarters. Lance assumed that there was someone living in that room — a name plate was attached to the door and sometimes he heard someone moving around mornings after he spent the night — but he had never seen anyone go in and out of that room. Shiro had told him that a lot of the dormers were, like him, active pilots who were frequently called on to serve in shorter missions.

_So what you’re saying, Lance said as he ran a finger down Shiro’s chest, is that I can be as loud as I want?_

_Shiro blushed, stricken. As if he hadn’t thought about it. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing temptingly. He said, I was thinking we wouldn’t have to worry about someone seeing you come and go, but…yeah…_

Lance pulled out a keyring with a pair of bronze keys, one with a circular bow and the other square. He used the square one to unlatch the lock and open the door.

Shiro’s quarters had always been remarkably neat. Dirty dishes never hung around in the kitchenette’s small sink. The electric stove top somehow managed to look pristine, despite the years of abuse it undoubtedly suffered. The books on the squat shelves situated between the kitchenette and the door to the bedroom were meticulously organized; first by author, than by title, then by publishing date. On top of the bookshelf was a docking station for an mp3 player that Lance took over once he learned Shiro had lost his when he moved in.

_Nope! Nope! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Lance chanted. I am not leaving this room until you’ve heard The Queen herself!_

_Babe, Shiro sighed, I’ve listened to Beyonce before, I know who she is._

_You may have listened, Lance said solemnly as he placed a hand over his heart, but have you heard her?_

_Shiro groaned and rubbed his face._

There was a second, plain wood door directly across from the entrance that lead to Shiro’s bedroom, with a bed that Lance never managed to keep messy and a dresser that he had carved a little corner in for his underwear and spare clothes. After that was a little bathroom, barely larger than a closet, with a shower and a toilet that had to have been cleaned every day because he had never seen a bathroom so well kept.

There was a love seat a few feet inside the door, on the far side of the room from the kitchenette, and a low, polished coffee table that never had something on it for more than a day. Lance had spent dozens of afternoons on that little sofa, head in Shiro’s lap as he diligently watched his boyfriend slog through paperwork and reports and technical manuals, knees hooked over the arm, leaving his feet to dangle above the ground.

_Read something to me, Lance demanded with a yawn._

_I have the log of your last instrument test, Shiro blandly offered, eyes never leaving the report he was grading._

_Wha— No! Lance closed his eyes. Read something interesting to me._

_There’s a manual for the SLR-V long-distance drone the Garrison is developing for a Venus mission._

_Never mind, Lance mumbled._

Lance locked the door behind him, kicked off his shoes, and sat down. He put the envelope on the coffee table and leaned back into thready cushions. His head tipped back, the crown of his skull held up by the wall, and he stared at the white ceiling.

The goodbye party the Garrison was throwing for Shiro and the rest of the Kerberos crew was supposed to end after supper. It would maybe take half an hour for him to get from there back to his room, if the party stopped on time and Shiro came straight back. He didn’t doubt it. They had planned to meet at his for one last night together.

_Eighteen months? Lance whispered._

_Shiro silently nodded. His hands were cupping Lance’s. His eyes were running along every crease in his skin._

_That’s… Lance started to say. A hundred different ways to end that sentence were caught in the back of his mouth, each one eager to be the first to make it past his teeth._

_Shiro closed his eyes. If you want, he said calculatedly, you don’t have to wait for me. Eighteen months is a very long time. You’re young. I…I would understand if you don’t want to—_

_That’s crap._

_Shiro gaped at him, eyes round and bulging, mouth hung open around all of his stalled words._

_Uh, hello, you’re only the coolest boyfriend ever, Lance said. You’re a super hot legendary space pilot with great taste in men who's going to fly farther than any other human ever has before. Why would I want to give that up?_

_Shiro blinked at him. His face relaxed and that amazing, warm, easy smile of his was back and, dammit, eighteen months in and Lance’s heart still goes crazy whenever he sees that smile._

The teeth of the keys pressed into the fleshy heel of his palm. He tossed them on to the coffee table before lying down on his back and stretching out on the love seat. His head was squashed into one armrest and his legs hung over the edge of the other one. His stomach burned and bubbled as he wiggled around, trying to get into a comfortable position and he suddenly regretted turning down Hunk’s offer to get food. Shiro had already gone through his impressive store of cup ramen and microwavable soups last week. He rested his hands on his stomach and closed his eyes. Maybe Shiro would bring some food with him from the party. What if they gave him a cake? Cake would be nice. Or pizza. As long as it was ordered in. The pizza the Garrison made for the students was abysmal: stiff crust and cheese that stuck to your teeth. Hunk tried his best with their dorm’s microwave, but he was still working with mess hall food. As Papi always said, your house is only as strong as your foundation, and if your foundation was made of viscous starches and cardboard there weren’t many other places to go.

Lance turned on his side. His eyes flit under their lids. Arms curled in to his chest. He should stay awake. He should do something big and flashy for when Shiro came back. Put on a show, like something out of Cosmo. Start the night off right by getting naked and beckoning your boyfriend to come and enjoy.

_Like what you see? Lance asked with a wink._

_Lieutenant Shirogane jolted. A strawberry pink blush rose up on his cheek and nose and, oh, oh man, this had to be the first time Lance’s flirting got a reaction like this. And from_ the _Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane, no less. He couldn’t falter, though, even as he felt his own heated blush creep up his neck._

_Shirogane adjusted the collar of his uniform. That is an inappropriate comment, Cadet, he said and, nope, he was not happy or charmed or weak-kneed and Lance had just made a bad first impression with one of the coolest pilots in Galaxy Garrison history and dammit, dammit, dammit. Shirogane looked at the tablet cradled in his arm. What is your name? he asked._

_Um, Lance McClain, Sir._

_Lance McClain, Shirogane repeated. Lance shivered when he heard the contemplative timbre that rumbled under his name. Shirogane tapped a spot on his screen and looked up. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Cadet._

He hadn’t fallen sleep in that position. Not really. Not intentionally. It was too uncomfortable being half-balled up like that. His sense of presence just drifted in and out, from darkness and sugary dreams that melted under the florescent lights to the homey old-fabric smell of the couch and the faint traces of a cologne he could not convince Shiro to stop wearing. He was vaguely aware of a door opening and two people talking quietly, of a door closing and the weight of another person warping the cushions next to him. Fingers brushed through his hair, starting at his hairline and following the curve of his skull to the dip at the stem of his neck, methodical and gentle. The blade of the thumb graced the shell of his ear, moving with it to find the crux of his jaw. He smiled and pried his heavy eyelids open.

“Hey, Babe,” Shiro whispered fondly. “Take your time waking up. We’ve got all night.”

Lance _hmphed_ and sat up, eyes still shut. His hands snaked around Shiro’s waist and his face fit into the bottom curve of his neck. He sighed when two arms wrapped around him just underneath the first curve of his spine.

“Not sleepin’,” Lance mumbled.

“Mm-hmm,” Shiro hummed. Lance could feel it in his chest: the jovial teasing warming his heart and making the rest of him shiver. A finger traced one of the knobs of his spine through his uniform top. “What were you doing, then?”

“I was thinking,” he said, lips catching against Shiro’s neck. “About you. And how much I’m going to miss you.”

Shiro was quiet as he nuzzled the back of Lance’s neck. Warm puffs of breath bred goosebumps on his skin, prompting a new round of shivering.

_You’re shaking, Shiro said. He withdrew his hand from Lance’s bare thigh. Do you want me to stop?_

_Lance shook his head so hard he could hear his brain sloshing around. I’m fine, he gasped. J-Just… It’s freezing in here. Why do you keep your room so freakishly cold?_

_Shiro blinked down at him, concern washing the cloudy lust from his eyes. Are you sure?_

_Lance steadied his hands against Shiro’s burning chest. Yeah. C-Could we get some sheets, though, ‘cause seriously, man..._

He pulled away from Shiro’s neck, just enough to see dusky lips, long, black lashes, and dewy charcoal eyes. “Damn, boy,” he said, “you got a boyfriend?”

Shiro chuckled. He brushed a chunk of hair behind Lance’s ear. “Yeah, but he’s a bit too immature for me. I’m looking for someone a little closer to my age.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Please,” he said, “your next boyfriend hasn’t even been born yet.” He pecked Shiro’s cheek. “That’s if I let him have you, of course.”

Shiro kissed him, cushy lips taking their time to press and massage and urge Lance’s apart. Just as he felt the warm tip of a tongue brush the dry curve of his bottom lip, Shiro pulled away. He whined, shrill and undignified, and his hands fisted in Shiro’s shirt. “See, that’s the kind of shit that’ll get you in trouble.”

Shiro chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. “How was your day?”

Lance pouted. “Awful,” he said. “Iverson sucks. All he did today was yell at us and tell us that basically everything we learned so far — everything _you_ taught us — is wrong and we’re stupid for believing you.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Shiro dismissed. He leaned back so that his upper back was supported by an armrest and tugged Lance on top of him, head on his chest and legs between Shiro’s. “Just give it some time. He’s harsh at first, but Iverson’s great, you’ll see. He’s trained some of the best pilots the Garrison has ever seen.”

“Like you?” he asked.

Shiro ran his fingers through Lance’s hair, short nails leaving soft, shallow rows in their wake. The soothing rise and fall of his chest under Lance’s cheek, the buzz of his voice warming his ears, the steady thunder of his heart half-lulled Lance back into the dozy semi-conscious state he had been in minutes ago. He couldn’t, though. If he fell asleep the night would disappear from underneath them. Shiro would slip away, leaving him with eighteen months of frozen smiles and memories that frayed and browned over time. He waited for Shiro’s response, to feel his voice rumble through his chest once again, but seconds passed in utter silence. Lance looked up at Shiro’s nervous expression.

“You never had a class with him?” Lance asked.

“No,” Shiro answered. “I had friends who did, though, and they said he was good.”

“You better be right,” Lance said. “Or the whole class is going to fly out to Kerberos and tell you how much of a liar you are.” He pushed himself up, eyes wide. “Oh!” he gasped. He sat on his calves and turned to the coffee table. He hesitated when he saw a different envelope, this one thicker and damaged at the seams. Lance grabbed both Shiro’s goodbye card and the mystery envelope.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding the beat-up one.

“We’re allowed to bring pictures up in the shuttle,” Shiro explained. “I asked Keith—”

_Babe! Ba— Lance! Lance, there’s nothing happening between us. There never was and there never will be. Keith is a friend; he’s like a little brother. He’s straight. Everything you heard was a rumor, a lie, I swear. I-I understand that you’re upset, you have every right to be. I should have said something, but I did it for us. Honestly. I can explain everything. Please, Lance, just open the door._

“—some off for me. I met him after the party to grab them before coming back here,” he continued. “You can look at them if you want.”

He did. Lance tossed the goodbye card to Shiro, absentmindedly explaining what it was while opening the older envelope. There were about half a dozen glossy pictures inside, the thick smell of wet ink hitting him as he pulled the stack out and set it on his hands. His heart skipped when he looked at the first picture: a man and a woman, both well into their fifties, leaning into each other. The woman, a blond with her long hair pulled back from her face, had a polite, wide smile and porcelain skin that wrinkled at the corners of her green eyes. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, stern eyes that contrasted with his face-splitting smile.

“Are these your parents?”

Shiro laid his card on his chest and tipped the photos so that he could see them. He smiled. “Yeah. I took that for them the last time they were in town.”

Lance tipped the photos back to their original angle and smiled fondly. “You look like them.”

Shiro laughed softly at that. “Thanks?” he said with an unsure quirk of his eyebrow. His fingers ran in smooth, long lines up and down Lance’s knees, languidly flexing and relaxing to draw the touch out. “Would you like to meet them?”

_Mami, Papi, this is one of my instructors, Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane._

_Shiro’s smile was blinding. He shook Papi’s hand, kissed Mami’s cheeks, and said to them, It’s an honor to meet you two._

_When Papi asked how Lance was doing in his studies, Shiro said, Lance is one of my most promising students. He’s shown not only skill, but a natural ability to adapt and react to new situations that I’ve never seen before. He has a bright future ahead of him._

_When Mami asked if Lance had been causing a ruckus around campus, Shiro laughed and said, No, not that I’m aware. Though, I have heard that he’s made some very, very close friends recently._

_When Lance looked over his shoulder as he lead his parents away, Shiro winked at him, setting off a flurry in his chest that he couldn’t shake for the rest of the day._

“It wouldn’t be until after I get back,” Shiro said. His fingers tapped when they were fully extended. Dancing at the border of thigh and kneecap, killing time as Shiro paused between sentences. His hesitance barely registered through the joy roiling in Lance’s chest. Its din reached his ears, nearly deafening him to Shiro’s nervous additions: “I’ve told them a bit about you. I hope you don’t mind. Um, they’d be excited to meet you but it’s up to you in the end. I-I don’t want to force you into anything right now.”

“S’okay,” Lance said on the tide of a heavy breath. The storm was finally lifting and giving him the chance to breathe fully. He cleared his throat and added, “I would love to meet them.”

He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive after seeing Shiro’s face light up the way it did. The way the setting sun lit the ocean’s horizon on fire was permanently burned into Lance’s mind; its blinding light had dared him to turn away, but he stood on the edge of the beach and stared it down, refusing to budge. Seeing Shiro’s smile, though, its light and hope and joy was devastating. If he stared too long, he was sure his heart was going to jump right out of his chest. So he focused on flipping through the pictures he had in hand instead of Shiro’s exuberance, the way his eyes lit up, or the roaming hands that drew corkscrews all over Lance’s thighs.

There was a second picture of Shiro’s parents, this one taken during a winter when they were younger, around Shiro’s age. There was a second man, identical in appearance to Shiro’s dad, standing besides his mom, bundled in a blue anorak and giving the camera a reserved smile. There was an old picture of Shiro when he was a student at the Garrison, as handsome as ever in his orange and white uniform, standing companionably with a big group of other students. There was a picture of a dressed down Keith giving the camera an easy-going James Dean smirk and a peace sign. And then he saw his own smirking, cocky face staring at him from his student portrait.

_What’s wrong with my face? Lance pouted._

_Nothing, Shiro nervously backtracked. You just make that face a lot._

_Of course I make that face, what other face can I make?_

And then there was a picture of him at the beach, giving a grinning Shiro a big, lip-smacking kiss on the cheek.

_Why don’t we get away? Just for a weekend. We both have shore leave right before our anniversary, right? Let’s go out and celebrate. Just the two of us. What do you say, Babe?_

The next one was himself again, this time naked with only his dick covered by one of Shiro’s white bed sheets.

_What are you doing with my phone? Shiro asked as he stepped out of the bathroom._

_Lance winked at him. Leaving you a present._

The last picture was them in front of a fountain they found at the beach, the two of them standing side-by-side with arms loosely secured around the other person’s waist. Lance was looking at the camera but Shiro was engrossed with Lance, watching closely with a smooth smile and glittering eyes.

_Is there something on my face?_

_Shiro, dazedly staring at him, hummed, Mm-hmm. He stepped forward and pecked Lance in the center of his cheek. Right here, Shiro said before he kissed the spot again._

“Shiro…” Lance muttered. He swallowed, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to slip down his cheeks. “And here I thought you wanted to keep me your sexy little secret,” he said with a louder, wet, wavering voice. “You’re practically bringing a shrine up with you.” 

“Babe,” Shiro responded when he sat up. He took the stack of pictures out of Lance’s hands and put them on the coffee table. His fingers wound around thin wrists and he leaned in for a short, airy kiss. “I couldn’t not—” a pair of warm lips on the pulse point of his wrist, “—bring you with me—” a single dry peck in the center of his palm, “—I think I’d go insane—” lips brush against knobby knuckles and the hint of a tongue touched the skin in the spaces between them, “—if I didn’t get to see at least a picture every day.”

His heart was galloping, fingers twitching, from the attention. Lance’s hips stuttered forward, eager and sure but confined by their proximity. “So you’re bringing a me for every season.”

“Couldn’t decide which one was my favorite,” Shiro said to the pad of Lance’s thumb.

Lance hooked his thumb to push on Shiro’s bottom lip. Shiro’s eyes bore into his, hot like the sun and nearly black. A tongue swiped along the blade of his fingernail. Lance breathed deeply as he felt the heat of Shiro’s breath fire down his arm and settle below his stomach.

_Cadet McClain, Lance heard Shirogane say. Ca— Oh!_

_Shit. He scrambled to secure a towel around his waist. He looked over his shoulder, wet hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks. Shirogane was looking away with his arms folded behind his back._

_H-Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, Lance greeted, feeling hot, hunching over just enough._

_Cadet, Shirogane repeated. I wanted to tell you that you had a good showing today._

_Lance’s stomach squirmed. Oh, he said, unsure. Thank you, Sir._

_I’ve noticed a dramatic improvement in your overall performance these last few weeks. I wanted to let you know that your progress isn’t being ignored._

_Lance was going to faint. He was going to pass out in the middle of the locker room, buck-ass naked, in front of his hot teacher all because his blood didn’t know if it should flow down or up. Thank you, Sir, he repeated. Th-That means a lot. Coming from you._

_However, Shirogane continued, I’ve isolated a few areas where you still need improvement. One-on-one training and instruction might be required for you to reach your full potential in time to take your first promotional exam. I’d like for us to arrange a time where we can sit down and craft a personalized training plan._

_Yeah, Lance gasped. Sure. S-Sounds good. Can we do it when I have clothes on?_

_Shirogane looked up and — holy shit — his eyes were pitch black and dragged along Lance’s spine before burning a hole where his mouth was._

_Oh. Fuck._

_Yes, Shirogane said, that’ll be fine. I’ll wait for you in the classroom._

Lance placed a kiss on the corner of Shiro’s mouth, which was puckered to suck on Lance’s thumb. “Shiro,” he said as he traced a path of dry, little kisses up Shiro’s cheek. “I love you so much.” He kissed the shell of his ear. “And I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done.”

Shiro released Lance’s thumb and wrists. With his hands now freed, Lance ran his fingers over the prickly buzzed hair on the back of Shiro’s head. How long was it going to be when he came back? He imagined running his fingers through thick, dark brown hair that swept over the base of Shiro’s neck and dangled in front of gorgeous, coal-gray eyes. Fingertips guided the point of his chin to bump against Shiro’s and their foreheads to touch. His lungs held every breath Shiro expelled and his mouth hung open, hungry and expectant. This close, he could see the stars and clouds eddy in the depths of Shiro’s eyes, thought he could feel the sky swallow him and massage the shared air from his lungs and the thin blood from his heart. He closed them against that naked feeling, aware all at once of his panting and how tightly his skin was sticking to him.

“I love you too,” Shiro whispered. Big hands rested on the sides of Lance’s face, anchoring him to this couch, this moment when he felt lighter, warmer, more free and alive than he ever had.

Lance broke the spell when he pulled his head away from Shiro’s hands and pressed his face against Shiro’s neck. He didn’t wait for his breathing to slow, and was vaguely aware of how hurried and not-seductive he sounded when he said, “T-Tonight… Tonight, I, I want you to do what you want to me. Anything you say I’ll do. Just…just tell me.”

In the moment of silence that followed, Lance could hear his thunderous heart in his ears, felt the rush of blood in his arms and cock, could barely make out Shiro’s labored panting against his shoulder. Shiro breathed deeply, chest shuddering as it pushed against Lance’s, before he answered, “I want to fuck you.”

Lance paused as he felt those words bounce around his head. He pulled away from Shiro’s neck to look at his scarlet face. “And?”

Shiro licked his lips. “Without a condom.”

Lance grinned unevenly. A buzz, as light and fuzzy as snow on TV, escaped his chest and filled his legs and arms and blocked out the world beyond Shiro. “And?”

“I want to cum inside of you,” Shiro finished as a deep rumble, leaning forward slightly.

He canted his hips forward, whimpering when he felt the bulge in Shiro’s pants. “And?”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose above his nose. “Uh… That’s about it.”

Lance blinked. “You…don’t want to do anything else?”

“Like what?”

Lance shrugged. “Tie me up? Spank me? Have me call you ‘Daddy’?”

Shiro’s nose scrunched up like he had just smelled something awful. “Why would I want you to do that?”

“I don’t know!” Lance cried. “This is your fantasy, dude. I’m giving you the chance to earn some optimal spank bank material before you’re stuck with your hand for eighteen months.” Lance ran one of his hands through Shiro’s hair. “Like, do you want to fuck me in the shower? The bed? In the hall? You want to fuck my mouth?”

“I thought you didn’t like it when I came in your mouth,” Shiro said, settling his hands on Lance’s ass.

_Babe! Babe, Lance, are you okay?_

_Lance spat the wad of cum on the floor. He heard a whimper force itself out from between clenched teeth and felt another squirt land on his cheek. He answered, That…could you warn a guy next time?_

_S—nnh—Sorry. It…it was unexpected._

_Lance lifted an eyebrow. How do you not know you’re going to cum? He asked._

_Shiro looked away, face growing redder. I wasn't expecting you to look so...hot, he said sheepishly._

“I’m supposed to be acting out your wildest fantasy,” he repeated. “Anything goes.”

“Yeah, but…” Shiro sighed. He glanced at Lance’s mouth. “What about you? You’re going to be alone for eighteen months, too.”

“Oh no,” Lance said, frowning. “You’re the one flying out into a big, black void in a tin can. I’m the one whose going to be here on Earth eating real food, talking to other people, and dealing with Iverson.” He feigned a thoughtful look, pinching his lips together and looking at the ceiling. “You know, now that I think about it, clearly I am the one making the bigger sacrifice. I’m losing my super sexy boyfriend and getting a mean cyclops as a teacher.” He rested his forehead on Shiro’s and traced the outline of his lips with a slow, lax finger. “So, so far we have fucking me without a condom and cumming in my ass. Is there anything else?”

Shiro kissed his fingertip. His hands squeezed Lance’s ass cheeks. Lance’s dick twitched and wept in appreciation. “Sounds perfect to me,” he said.

Lance winked at him. “Then let’s get this party started.”

Shiro’s bed was utilitarian: firm, sparse, and just big enough for the two of them. There were several pillows propped under his head as Shiro kissed and sucked on his neck while quickly divesting him of his uniform top; one of the pillows was one of the Garrison-issued ones that he was pretty sure was made out of plastic bags, the other three were real fabric and cotton that depressed under his weight and supported his head when he arched into Shiro’s attention. Fingers pulled the hem of his white t-shirt out from the waist of his pants and felt the way his back muscles folded in on his spine. Wide hands ran up and down while Lance sighed and balled his fists against the broad yoke of strong shoulders. Shiro’s mouth left his neck, leaving a hot, wet spot that sapped the warmth from the rest of his body. At his shrill, wordless protest, it returned to coax tongue and teeth and happy little sighs and moans and breaths from him.

Lance reached down between them and unbuttoned his pants. His legs kicked and twisted as he tried to push them and his underwear down wriggling hips while staying in contact with hands and mouth and skin and Shiro. His knees bumped into Shiro’s spread thighs, whispering a quick, breathy “sorry” between licks and nibbles. Shiro’s hands ran down his back, followed the curve of his waist to the front of his pelvis, before fingers curled around the loose fabric around Lance’s thighs and yanked. His cock — slim, hard, and a warm reddish ochre — sprung free, swiping along Shiro’s clothes before hitting Lance’s stomach. He jerked at the feeling of rough polyester against the head. Shiro covered Lance entirely, chest against chest, hips between knees, bulky arms caging his head so that the only thing Lance could see, feel, or smell was him.

He huffed as he ran his hands down Shiro’s front, feeling a firm chest underneath the restrictive top. He felt a quiver in Shiro’s breath as he kissed along his jaw and nipped at the wet spot on his neck. “You’ve got too many clothes on,” Lance said with a whine. “It’s not fair if I’m the only naked one here." He pushed his hips up against Shiro’s bulge. There was another groan, a needy one that rumbled out of the deepest part of Shiro’s chest, hot breath settling in his ear. “I’m totally going to ruin your clothes if you don’t get them off.”

Shiro pulled way, balancing himself on his knees and smiling down at Lance. A dusty crimson blush crept down from his eyes to his neck and, as he stripped off his top, his upper chest. “Someone’s being bossy tonight,” he commented as he unbuttoned and unzipped his fly.

Lance sat up. He flicked one of Shiro’s nipples with his tongue, then licked his lips and sucked on it until he heard a gasp. His left hand reached up and traced circles around the areola of the other nipple. Hands clasped the back of his head, pushing his face harder against Shiro’s chest. He closed his eyes and gently rolled the nipple between this teeth. A deep-throated moan shook its way out of Shiro, escaping past soft lips and through the pores of his skin. Lance looked up. He pulled his mouth away and said, “It’s my last chance to boss you around for a while.” He propped his chin over Shiro’s hammering heart. “Gotta take the opportunity when you see it, right?”

_You kissed me, Shirogane whispered reverentially, his breath tickling Lance’s lips._

_Yeah, Lance whispered back. The butterflies in his chest were flapping wildly, bottlenecking at the entrance of his throat and sending sparks to his fingertips. You looked like you needed a little push, so…_

_A push?_

_Lance opened his eyes. He expected to see Shirogane sporting a blissed out expression, a mirror to his own. Instead he saw wide, stunned eyes and confusion that cut deeply into the sides of his mouth._

_Yeah, he said. ‘C-Cause I’ve been here for, what, an hour? And you haven’t made a move. And…and that’s why you invited me to your room, right? Because you like me?_

_Shirogane’s frozen expression melted. Lance shook and all of his butterflies died in one awful, chilly moment._

_And that seemed so weird, he rambled, unless you weren’t planning on doing anything and you really did want to tutor me which, you know, is totally possible and I have thought of that, but I thought it was the other thing ‘cause I see the way you look at me in class and, like, yeah, it’s probably not kosher for you to make the first move ‘cause you’re my teacher, but if I kissed you first then that might be better because then you wouldn’t get in as much trouble and then maybe you wouldn’t have to do the whole coded messages thing you’ve been doing the past few weeks and maybe we could… I don’t know, kiss more? Or do more than kiss. Which I would totally be cool with if you are. And you are. Aren’t you?_

_Shirogane bent his head forward. His bangs covered one of his eyes, but he could see the other one focused on a spot across the room. Lance, he said in a pained breath._

_Lance stood up. Y-You know what? It’s late. I’m tired. You’re probably tired, too. I’ll just show myself out, yeah?_

_Lance, Shirogane called._

_He was already at the door, though, white knuckling the knob and barely preventing his tears from falling. I’ll see you in class._

Shiro quickly shucked off his pants and pushed him back onto the bed to kiss him. His palms lay flat against Lance’s body as they moved down and up, following the dips and peaks of collar bones, chest, abs, and hips. Lance anchored his feet to the bed and ground his hips up, aiming his cock to rub against Shiro’s. He was rewarded with a groan and a retaliatory roll from Shiro’s hips. He felt a smirk against his mouth as he gasped.

“You better get on with fucking me,” Lance said with a bit-off moan as Shiro thrust against him again. “I feel like I’ve been hard for hours and I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.”

Shiro kissed him on the cheek. “We have all night,” he said.

Lance rubbed the back of Shiro’s neck. “But I want you inside me now,” he whined.

Shiro jolted and made a small, undignified noise. He pecked Lance’s forehead before reaching for the drawer in his bedside table. Lance continued to rub his neck with one hand while the other reached between them to feel the wet, swollen head of Shiro’s cock. He bit his lower lip and pumped the length slowly, enjoying the way it twitched in his hand.

“God, Shiro,” he said with a breathy whisper. “Look at this big, beautiful cock of yours. It’s going to be so cold and lonely with me.”

“It will,” Shiro said, voice straining. His hips were thrusting forward and his arm was reaching out in another direction. He gasped when Lance cupped and rolled his balls in his other hand. When he finally returned his attention to Lance, he was holding a half-empty bottle of anal lube like a treasure and there was a wild, electric light in his eyes. “Which position do you want to be in?” he asked.

“Which position do you want to be in?” Lance asked in return.

Shiro licked his lips. “Could you be on your back? And wrap your legs around me?”

Lance gave up his prize — Shiro groaned in disappointment when he let go — to crawl up the bed. He rested his upper back and shoulders on the pillows and slid his legs out from underneath Shiro, shifting his weight so he could comfortably swing his legs up and hook them over Shiro’s shoulders. Lance smirked and raised one of his eyebrows in challenge. Shiro leaned forward, lifting Lance’s hips and bending him almost in half to seal their lips and swipe an asking tongue across his smug mouth.

A wet, lubed finger pressed into him, as careful as the first time Shiro played with his ass. It pushed in, pulled out, teasingly felt for the spot it knew his prostrate was located. Lance grasped the sides of Shiro’s face. He wanted to keep him there and kissing him with that brilliant tongue and those big, cushy lips. He wanted the anchor as he arched his back and rocked into the hand, meeting hesitant thrusts with assured ones. Mostly, though, he needed to feel as many points of contact between himself and Shiro as he could. He needed his world to narrow down to the feeling of fingers and skin and sweat and twitching muscles. He needed to push away the memories that crept to the forefront of his mind so that he could capture this moment, this feeling, for the next few years. Shiro added more lube to his hand and pushed in a second finger to stretch and twist and pull him open. Lance’s sore legs slipped off of Shiro’s shoulders, past his arms and hooking around his waist. Shiro pulled his mouth away from Lance’s and asked, breathlessly, “How are you feeling?”

Lance gasped as one of those fingers grazed the edge of his prostate. He pushed back into Shiro’s fingers. “It…It feels…wiggly,” he said through clenched teeth, regretting his choice of words almost immediately.

“Wiggly?” Shiro asked with a huff of a laugh.

“Shut up,” Lance commanded. He buried his nose against Shiro’s neck. “I…I feel — ah! — hot and not hot. Not, not cold, but — nnnh!” His knees squeezed Shiro’s torso. “I feel like I’m about to be set on fire.”

“Is that good?” Shiro asked worriedly.

Lance nodded furiously. “Y-Y-Yeaaaaaah. It’s so good.” He pawed at broad shoulders. “Shiro. It’s so, so good.”

“Do you think you’re ready for more, Baby?” Shiro asked.

He nodded. “I’m always ready for more.”

He held back a groan when Shiro pulled his fingers out. He pulled Shiro down for another kiss, gulping for air in the seconds between the touch of lips. He pulled a pillow out from under his head and fit it under his hips. He hiked his legs higher up Shiro’s torso when he heard the squelch of Shiro lubing up his own dick. Two slick, sticky fingers held him open as the head of Shiro’s dick lined up with his asshole. Lance’s fingers twitched on the back of Shiro’s head.

_If this is too much you let me know immediately, Shiro said. Okay, Baby?_

_Lance nodded. He could feel the head of Shiro’s dick pressing against his throbbing asshole. His entire face was pushed into a pillow. Shiro said this position would be easiest for him. His back wouldn’t hurt and it’s a good angle for the both of them, but his thighs were straining against nothing and nerves had his stomach in knots._

_A hand snaked its way up his spine. Breathe, Shiro said. Lance, all you have to say is that you don’t want to do this. I understand._

_I want to do this, Lance said. He turned his head, freeing his mouth from the pillow. I trust you, Shiro. I want this._

He took a deep breath. Shiro pushed his hips forward, slowly and precisely, until his pelvis was flush against Lance’s ass.

“Shit,” Shiro whispered. He dropped his head to Lance’s neck. “Shit, Baby, this is—”

Lance rocked his hips and Shiro moaned. He tightened the muscles in his ass and Shiro trembled around him. He nipped at a bit of skin on Shiro’s shoulder and said, “I think I can feel all of you. Yeah. I can feel you against my—”

Shiro shushed him. His shaking was getting deeper and was spreading farther out, even to his fingers. “I…I’m so close,” he said.

Lance blinked. “Already?”

“Yeah,” Shiro gasped. “I’m trying not to but, oh my God, Lance. This is better than anything I’ve imagined.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you given a lot of thought to rawdogging me?” Shiro whimpered. Lance grinned. “For how long?”

Shiro kissed his neck. “Give me a second, Baby, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Uh, that doesn’t answer my ques— aah!”

His dick was surrounded by even, slick pressure. Shiro moved his hand up and down, his grip firm and his speed quick and perfect. Lance panted as he lifted and dropped his hips in time with the hand, chasing the friction and relief offered and inadvertently fucking himself on Shiro’s cock. He felt a gasp against his collar bone and, soon, hips were slapping against his backside.

Lance lost himself in the echoes of breathy groans and the rush that built in his stomach. He dug his fingernails into pearly sun-kissed skin and dug his heels into a sturdy back. He whispered, between pants and thrusts, in moments when Shiro’s mouth wasn’t ravaging his, to him all of the amazing things he was feeling. The weight of Shiro’s body over his. The fizzy lightness in his head and the electric buzz under his skin and the tight burn in his muscles. He whimpered and whined when Shiro touched him just right, kissed him at just the right moment, thrust into him at the right angle. He told him how being with him felt as natural as breathing or flying or swimming. He told him he felt like he was made of smoke wherever Shiro didn’t touch him and that he felt like he was on the brink of drowning when he did. He told him how he was Shiro’s, wholly and forever, as a whisper against hot, sweaty skin and to tarnished silver eyes. He told him how much he loved him, he loved him, he loved him, over and over as Shiro’s thrusting became rougher, harder, more erratic until, finally, his entire body shook and he breathed out a long, shuddering, protracted moan.

Lance tensed when he felt cum pulse into him, reaching deeper inside him than he had previously thought possible. Shiro hovered over him, forehead resting on Lance’s, hot breath pooling at his mouth, and hand quickening until Lance came with a deep, whole, chest-ringing moan.

They stayed like that, Shiro still buried inside him, Lance with his legs and arms still wrapped around him. He felt fingers map his cheek bones and the slope of his chin. He opened his eyes — when had he closed them? — and saw clear gray eyes and a lazy, happy smile. He giggled as his heart melted. Shiro kissed his forehead. Then, softly, his mouth. Again. And again. And again.

“Lance,” Shiro whispered after a sweet kiss. “Babe.”

“Yeah?” he sighed.

“I need to go get a washcloth,” he said.

Lance sighed. “You’re gonna leave me here in the cold?” he complained. His legs and arms fell away, hitting the bed with soft thumps. Shiro pulled out with a chuckle and another kiss to his forehead. “You’re gonna leave me all alone on your bed,” he called out. He watched Shiro walk away, back, leg, and butt flexing and relaxing with each step. He felt himself falling in love over and over and over again. “I’m gonna get into trouble without you here,” he said.

Shiro looked over his shoulder as he opened the bathroom door. “You get into trouble no matter where I am,” he said with a fond smile.

Lance smirked. “It’s one of the many reasons you love me.”

_What did you say? Lance whispered._

_Shiro looked away, face red, fingers twitching against each other. I… If it freaks you out, don’t worry about it. I hadn’t planned on saying it tonight. I understand we haven’t been seeing each other seriously for very long and—_

_No. Lance reached out to hold his hands. They continued to shake and twitch, even as he laced their fingers together._

_I’m not going to freak out. I just want to hear it again. So, please, can you say it again?_

_Shiro stared at him, his skin reverting back to its golden pink shade. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth._

“There are a lot of reasons why I love you,” Shiro said as he sat back down on the bed. “If you can believe it, your penchant for trouble isn’t one of them.” He ran a moist cloth down Lance’s stomach, cleaning off the cum and sweat that had started to dry on his skin.

“Think of it as less a penchant for trouble,” Lance suggested, running fingers up Shiro’s thigh, “and more of a streak of unpredictability.”

Shiro lifted an incredulous eyebrow. He was still smiling, still fond and warm, as he responded, “Just don’t get so unpredictable that I come back and you’re not even here anymore.” He ran the towel between Lance’s thighs. “How’re you feeling?”

Lance sighed and opened his legs further. “Really, really good,” he said. “And ready for round two.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Shiro. He lifted his hips for the warm cloth as it asked to reach under him and wipe away the lube and cum that had started to leak out. The fabric was warm and moist and the touch was gentle and light around his stretched hole. “What about you?”

Shiro looked him in the eye. “Really, really good,” he parroted. “Not quite ready for round two, though.” He withdrew his hand from under Lance. “Talk to me again in about half an hour.”

“Old man,” Lance teased. He nudged Shiro’s side with his foot.

Shiro let the rag fall to the floor with a heavy plop. He crawled over Lance and laid on his side. Lance squirmed closer to him, bending his head to fit under Shiro’s chin. He hugged Shiro’s torso, hands coming to rest on his shoulder blades. He sighed as big arms closed around him and held him to a warm, soft chest. He felt a soft hum rise from underneath his cheek as fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck.

“Lance,” Shiro said, “have you given any thought to us going public?”

Lance looked up, but couldn’t see beyond Shiro’s jaw. “What?”

“About our relationship,” Shiro clarified. “I’ve been thinking about it since the crew for the Kerberos mission was announced. I love you — a lot. I can see us going long-term: meeting each others’ parents, moving in together. I want that for us, but we can’t do that and hide our relationship.”

Lance was staring at the corner of the bedroom, just over Shiro’s shoulder. He felt himself heat up as Shiro was speaking. Beads of sweat were forming at his hairline and something fuzzy was sticking to his throat. “I would like all of that too,” Lance said. “But I’ll still be in school eighteen months from now. If you come back from being in space for a year and a half and we’re suddenly dating, I think someone will put two and two together. We could still get in trouble.”

“We don’t have to be ‘suddenly dating,’” Shiro said. “We could start spending more time together in public, then after a while we can hold hands or kiss with strangers around. And it doesn’t matter if you’re a student, you wouldn’t be my student anymore.”

Lance rubbed Shiro’s chest. “And if I need to become your student again? If I have to take one of your classes? You teach, like, a third of the fighter pilot classes. I’m going to have to take you again eventually.”

Shiro hesitated. Just as Lance was about to lift his head and ask him what’s wrong, he said in a tense voice, “We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

The arms around Lance pulled him in a little bit closer. Lance moved his head enough to free his nose and mouth, allowing him to breath fresh air. He closed his eyes and dug his fingers into Shiro’s back. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “I like the idea of not sneaking around and having to have excuses to come see you.” He smiled. “And I like the idea of moving in with you. I love waking up beside you in the morning. I like the way your hair looks when it’s all messed up after sleeping.”

He felt a deep sigh move his head. “I like waking up next to you, too,” Shiro said. “You’re so cute in the morning when you first wake up.”

“I’m cute all the time,” Lance said.

“You’re especially cute in the morning,” Shiro said. “I like it when you can’t keep both of your eyes open.”

“I’m going to add that to the infinite list of weird things you like,” Lance said. “It’ll go between ‘working’ and ‘Keith.’”

Shiro chuckled. “You don’t know because you’ve never seen yourself first thing in the morning.”

“I most certainly have,” Lance said. “I have a mirror in my room.”

Shiro tugged on a lock of Lance’s hair. “Last time I checked,” he said, “you had three.”

“That’s to make sure I look good before I head out for the day,” Lance explained. His speech was starting to slow down, his words ran into each other. His eyelids were firmly closed now. When he tried to open them, they would flinch and quiver and relax again. “You’re one of the lucky ones. You’re naturally beautiful, what with your eyes and your jaw and your—” Lance cut himself off with a yawn “—rockin’ body. You save so much money on mirrors.”

Shiro kissed the top of his head. “You’re one to talk,” he said softly. “From the first moment I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen.”

“And then I said some dumb shit,” Lance muttered.

“Mm-hmm,” Shiro hummed. “But you’re so much more than some hot kid who said dumb shit. You’re outgoing and kind and smarter than I think even you give yourself credit for. You’re going to be amazing, Lance. And I want to be with you when you get there.” Shiro cradled the back of his neck. He sounded sluggish as he said, “I love you, Lance. More than you may ever know.”

_How much do you love me? Lance asked smugly._

_What do you need? Shiro asked in response, focus remaining on the manual in front of him._

_Who says I need something? Lance asked. He tried to tug it out of his hands but Shiro pulled it back._

_You do this every time you need something, Shiro said. Last time it was blackmail on Professor Montgomery—_

_She had something against me, I swear, Lance defended._

_So what do you need? Shiro asked. He finally looked away from the manual, giving Lance the opportunity he needed to swoop in and capture his lips in a quick, little kiss. When he pulled away, a blush had risen on Shiro’s cheeks and a stunned look was settling on him._

_Lance smirked. That’s all I needed._

_Shiro’s blush spread across his entire face, turning the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears bright scarlet. He reached out and stroked the side of his face. Lance…_

“Lance?” The voice drifted over his head, wafting through the fine, soft threads of hair on the top of his head. He sighed and nuzzled the warmth underneath his nose. Something stroked his cheek. “Lance?”

He huffed and tried to press himself closer to the body next to him. “Fie minnit,” he muttered.

Something pulled him close. He smelled skin and deodorant and the vague traces of Shiro’s horrible cologne. Lance crinkled his nose. Did he have to wear that? It always reminded him of the times he would breathe in his mother’s hair spray when she was getting ready for work in the mornings. It clung to the back of his throat, releasing a chemical aftertaste for the rest of the day.

“Lance,” Shiro whispered. “We fell asleep. It’s morning.”

“Hnn?”

“We only have a couple more hours before I have to leave,” Shiro said somberly.

Lance opened his eyes. He was snuggled up against Shiro’s chest. One of his legs was tucked between Shiro’s and an arm lazily hung across his chest. He looked up and saw his boyfriend’s handsome face pulled into a mournful frown. He bent his head, pushing his nose deeper in the crevice between Shiro’s pecks. “So no round two?” he asked, mind and tongue beginning to break free of lingering drowsiness.

“We can have round two in the shower,” Shiro offered. He pulled himself out of Lance’s embrace, letting in a draft of cold air. Lance shivered and pulled his arms to his chest.

“There’s not enough room in your shower,” Lance complained. “There’s barely enough room for you, it’s not going to be able to hold both of us.” He opened one eye to watch Shiro crawl over him and stand up next to the bed. “What time is it?” he asked while rolling over. The clock on the bedside table read six in the morning. “I could make you breakfast while you get ready,” he offered.

“I don’t have any food,” Shiro said. “We used it all up, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” he mumbled, remembering the charred, smoking mess and Shiro’s state of devastation from the previous week. “I could run and get us something to eat from the mess hall. It’s probably early enough that no one will see me.”

“Maybe,” Shiro said, “but I’d rather you stay here.” He leaned over Lance, lips grazing his forehead. “I don’t want you to leave me just yet.”

“You’re the one leaving,” Lance reminded him. He reached out and stroked Shiro’s shoulder. With feigned exasperation and a wink, he said, “But okay. I’ll fuck you in the shower.”

The two of them could barely fit in the bathroom together. The whole room was maybe four square feet with the sink, the toilet, and shower in such close proximity that one could, and Lance had, use the toilet while simultaneously washing his hair and brushing his teeth without any difficulty. Lance had wondered before how Shiro could fit into the shower stall, at most one-and-a-half squared feet total. He was starting to consider both of them in there at the same time to be an engineering miracle when Shiro dropped to his knees in front of him. The spray was to Lance’s back, splashing over his shoulders and down his front. Beads of warm water dripped onto Shiro’s bangs, making them stick to his forehead and temple. Big hands held Lance’s thighs as Shiro toyed with his dick with kisses and kitten licks. Lance leaned his head against the wall and moaned. His hands cupped Shiro’s head, massaging his skull with blunt fingernails as the blood rushed to his dick. A shock of pleasure jolted through him when Shiro savored the tip of his cock with a long, languid lick and a hungry moan.

“Dammit, Shiro,” he whispered.

One of Shiro’s eyebrows quirked up in interest. In any other context, Lance might have thought it was an innocent, silent query — a prompt to explain his weak curse. Nothing could be innocent, though, when half a cock was in your mouth. He closed his lips around the tip and sucked. He hollowed his cheeks and closed his eyes and hummed with sincere enthusiasm, like Lance’s cock was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

Lance closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see Shiro’s fucked-out expression when he could feel the soft insides of his mouth, the strong press of a tongue against the vein on the bottom of his cock, and the heat of his throat when Shiro sunk all the way down.

“Fuck!” Lance whimpered. His fingers twitched in Shiro’s hair, the muscles in his arms tensed to keep his head still and his thighs strained with the effort to suppress the instinct to thrust forward, to dig deeper into the twitching throat. But Shiro’s hands kept him still as his head bobbed up and down and as his tongue massaged and teased and the pressure from his expert mouth held firm.

_How did you learn to suck cock like that? Lance asked between pants._

_Shiro proudly licked his lips. Practice, he answered._

His stomach warmed and squirmed as Shiro’s head bobbed faster. His ass clenched as his insides roiled and rose, the heat from his cock spreading throughout his body, setting nerves on fire and turning his brain to smoke and ash. He lifted his chin to the ceiling, struck dumb by his own harsh panting. When the fire finally reached his chest, he gave a desperate warning gasp, “I’m cumming. I’m cum— nnh!” Shiro’s hands grabbed his ass cheeks and pushed them, leveraging Lance’s cock farther down his throat just as his cum spilled out. Lance, now free to move his hips, humped Shiro’s face, riding out the throbbing waves of orgasm against his nose and mouth.

When he finally looked down, Shiro was a mess. His lips and cheeks were red and his hair was sticking to his face. His eyes were nearly black and the skin around them was relaxed, like it was when he smiled. There might have been drool slipping down his face, mixing with the shower water and a dribble of cum that had escaped from the corner of his mouth. His cock stood against his stomach, cherry red and shiny from water and precum.

Shiro released Lance’s cock with a final loving kiss. He swallowed the load he still had in his mouth and stood up.

“Are you okay, Babe?” he asked.

“What?” Lance asked dazedly.

Shiro pulled him in close. “You barely said anything.” He kissed the tip of Lance’s nose. “You’re usually so talkative.”

Lance reached between them and took Shiro’s cock in hand. “Maybe it was so good I forgot how to talk,” he said with a firm stroke. Shiro huffed out a breathy moan and his hips twitched forward, pushing his cock further into Lance’s hand. “Maybe,” Lance continued, “I like how fucked-out you look when you suck cock.”

Shiro’s body curled into him and he rested his head on Lance’s shoulder. The shower spray splashed off the top of his head and splattered Lance on the side of his face, forcing him to close his right eye. Lance used the pad of his thumb to rub over the slick head when his hand reached the top of Shiro’s cock.

“And maybe,” he said, “I wanted to focus on the feeling of your mouth on my cock. That way I can remember exactly how it felt when you sucked me off while you’re gone.” Shiro moaned into his neck when Lance twisted his wrist and sped up his stroking. “I’m going to have to get used to that again. Imagining you fucking me when I touch myself. I always thought I had a good imagination, but it’ll never compare to the real thing.” Lance sighed and leaned in to the wall. His hand was slippery, friction nearly gone from the water that had seeped in through the folds of his hand, but if the way Shiro’s shoulders were trembling and deep, broken noises he was making were any indication, he was close. “Fuck, Shiro, you’ve spoiled me. I don’t think anyone will ever be as good as you. I don’t want to even try with someone else.”

He ground out a rough, long groan and rolled his hips into Lance’s hand, cumming with sporadic spurts that painted Lance’s abdomen with long, white drips. Lance held him through the shocks, kissing his damp shoulders and the dripping side of his neck. When the shuddering stopped Shiro pet Lance’s back and kissed him at the juncture of his neck. He pulled away, face pink and relaxed. Lance’s heart beat out of rhythm for a moment, leaving him breathless and light.

They spent the next few minutes washing and playing with each other. Lance squirted shampoo on Shiro’s chest — “So we match!” he said with a wink — and Shiro drew a heart on Lance’s face with soap. They kissed and spun around in the tiny square, trying to get each other rinsed down and clean. After a few more minutes, Shiro turned the water off and Lance reached out to grab some towels for them. Shiro kissed him on the cheek again and rubbed his hands in Lance’s hair making it stand up in crazy angles.

“Hey!” Lance cried. He tried to pat his hair down. “I don’t want it to stay like that.”

When they checked the clock, it was six forty-five. Shiro cursed the time and hurried through drying. Lance watched as he picked a new uniform set from his closet and stepped into his pants, buttoned his top, and fixed the medals to his chest.

“When is your escort coming to get you?” Lance asked.

Shiro sighed. “Sometime around seven thirty,” he said. “I’m meeting the rest of the crew at the shuttle bay just before eight. We’re going to be ferried to the launch site after that. Take-off is at noon.”

“That’s a long wait between eight and noon,” Lance said softly. He pulled the towel tighter around himself.

“A lot of that is travel to the launch site,” Shiro said as he doused himself in cologne. “Getting there is about two hours away. Then, we have a couple more hours of final checks. After that we just need to wait for the sky to be clear.” Shiro was running his hands through his hair when he turned around. He paused and looked Lance up and down.

“What?” Lance asked.

Shiro shook his head. “You’re…” He sighed. He walked over to Lance and cupped his neck. “I don’t want to keep saying ‘when I get back’,” he said, holding Lance’s gaze. “It feels like too fragile of a promise.”

“It’s not,” Lance said. He leaned into Shiro’s hand. A smile slowly spread across his face.

Shiro’s jaw flinched as he stared. He stepped closer and leaned in to capture Lance’s lips for a lingering kiss. Their foreheads rested against each other, warm and dewy from the remaining water. “Then…when I get back,” he said, “I want to starting planning for us. For our future. I really meant it when I said last night that I could see us going long-term.”

“I think so, too,” Lance said.

Shiro’s eyes scanned his face, jumping from his eyes to his lips to his nose and back to his eyes again. He swallowed. “I…was thinking long-term…as in permanently.”

“Oh,” Lance said, feeling like his chest had just collapsed.

“It’s — you have time to think about it,” Shiro added quickly, averting his eyes. “And you should take your time. It’s your future, too. What I’m asking is big, maybe the biggest thing I’ll ever ask anyone, but I’ve given it a lot of thought and…I hope you’ll think about it too.”

Lance took a deep breath. He nodded and then leaned in to kiss him on the lips. “I’ll think about it,” he promised. He touched Shiro’s chest, right above his heart, and let a bittersweet smile roll smoothly across his face. Shiro pressed his hand over Lance’s and leaned into it, body moving with the ease and relief of a sigh, and kissed him. Lance buried his other hand in Shiro’s hair, grabbing the short hairs and dragging him in for a harder kiss. His towel slipped off of his shoulders, pooling around his feet. Shiro’s free hand fell to his waist, pulling him flush against him and opening his mouth with a deft flick of his tongue.

They paused long enough to catch their breath and notice the haze collecting in the darkness of each other's eyes. Shiro looked over Lance’s shoulder, at his clock. He frowned and closed his eyes. “It’s seven,” he said softly.

“I should put some clothes on,” Lance said.

“I need to brush my hair,” Shiro said. He sighed and kissed Lance one more time before stepping away.

Lance dried himself off quickly and threw on his clothes from the day before. His hair was a mess, his uniform was wrinkled, and he had a funny gait to his walk. Anyone who took two glances at him would be able to tell what he had done the night before, and if anyone saw him leave the pilot’s wing then they might try to guess who he had been with. The Lance who would have cared to perfect his look and press his clothes, who would have hidden in a trash can to make it to his boyfriend’s room unseen, didn’t wake up that morning. He was in the part of his chest that had been crushed minutes ago by Shiro’s semi-proposal; suffocated and cut-off from the purposeless limbs that folded his used towel and the glazed eyes that followed Shiro’s restless movements.

He looked at the clock. Seven fifteen. Lance touched the middle of Shiro’s back, causing him to stop his brushing.

“Do you have to wait for your escort or could you—”

“No, I don’t,” Shiro said. He put his brush down. “I’m ready now, but…” He turned around. Lance’s hands twitched and he wrapped his arms around Shiro’s chest. Shiro’s arms encircled his shoulders. He rested his head against Lance’s. Shiro whispered, “I’d rather…”

_Wait._

_A pair of hands squeezed his shoulders, firm and hot over his uniform._

_I, Shirogane started. He breathed deeply, steadying himself. I do. Want to kiss you. And so much more. It’s just… We can’t, Lance. I can’t. As your instructor, as an officer, I can’t fraternize with cadets._

_Lance blinked. His face was burning hot and tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. You’re friends with cadets. I see you with Keith Kogane all the time._

_He’s not my immediate subordinate, Shirogane said. The way he said that, softly and with a hint of longing, left him paralyzed. The air in his lungs felt heavy. Maybe, Shirogane suggested, we can wait or get you transferred to a different squad or—_

_Lance looked over his shoulder. Shirogane looked so sad, so pathetic behind him, with his wide, glistening eyes and the subtle tremble in his lip. Are you willing to wait that long, he asked._

_Shirogane’s silence, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed his answer, was all Lance needed. He faced the door again, puffing out his chest and lifting his chin before he turned the knob and pulled open the door._

_A hand shot out and shut it, though. Another one turned him around, pushing him against the cold alloy frame. He stared, shocked, at Shirogane’s reddening face. The sadness had drained away, leaving behind the dregs of shock and confusion, before that too was leeched by steely resolve. Shirogane took a step forward, leaving barely an inch between him and Lance. Hands cupped the back of Lance’s head, thumbs behind his ears and, wow, okay, this was really happening. This was really, really happening._

_No one can know, Shirogane said._

_No one will, Lance promised. He closed his eyes as Shirogane’s face loomed closer. He sighed, Shirogane—_

_Shiro, he was corrected. A nose brushed against his. Please, call me Shiro._

_Shiro, he repeated, a quick breath before full lips met his._

“You need to get going,” Lance whispered. His heart pulsed painfully with each word.

Shiro kissed his lips. “I know.” He squeezed Lance closer to him, suffocating the space from between them and tucked his face into Lance’s hair. “I know. Just…let me…”

Lance nodded. He held fistfuls of Shiro’s uniform, shutting his eyes against the fabric and the harsh lights above them. He could hear the thumping of Shiro’s blood as it rushed through his neck. He focused on that, the steadiness and the rhythm, tempered by his heart, the smell of fresh clothes and bad cologne, the heat of his skin, the hands on his back, the push and pull of Shiro’s breathing. He thought about saying something — something deep and profound and wise that would blow Shiro’s mind — but there was comfort in this moment, insulated by silence.

Then there was a knock on the front door. After a short pause, he heard it open and close. Someone called Shiro’s name, asking if he was ready. Shiro kissed Lance on the neck. “Just a moment,” he said. They kissed softly, just short of satisfying either of them.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” Lance whispered.

Shiro nodded. He kissed Lance’s cheek. “I will. And you’ll be here.”

“I will,” Lance said.

After one last little kiss, they let go. Shiro smoothed down the part of his uniform Lance had been holding on to and went to the door. Lance took a step back, ensuring he was hidden by the door when it swung in and watched Shiro disappear and the door close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 1/19/2017: Made some grammatical edits and changed bits of dialogue.

**Author's Note:**

> Two really awesome people ([bbb35](http://bbb35.tumblr.com/) & [onimi18](http://onimi18.tumblr.com/post/156517770828)/[Ex Mentis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ex_Mentis/pseuds/Ex_Mentis)) wrote an unofficial continuation for this story called [First Night Back on Earth](http://onimi18.tumblr.com/post/156517770828/first-night-back-on-earth-a-shance-ficlet) that ya'll should check out!


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